


Stress Relief

by LucoLoco



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucoLoco/pseuds/LucoLoco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade needs to relieve stress. He masturbates. Boom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Requested of me. Pairing of my choice but had to be about Lestrade, and bonus points for Lestrade getting caught.
> 
> I posted this on Tumblr but I edited this a bit.

Greg walked into his bedroom, and laid himself face-up on the bed. Damn, he was stressed. This particular case had been difficult. It stumped them enough that Sherlock had to be called onto the crime scene, which meant Greg had to be the mediator between Sherlock and the rest of his team. Couldn’t they just get along for one day? And they still hadn’t solved it by the end of the day, but Sally asked him to go home and rest since he’d been working himself pretty hard.

As Greg laid on the bed, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. At least he was finally home, but he was still feeling tense. God, he wanted a beer, but he didn’t drink while working on a case. He’d have to go with Plan B then.

He removed his hands from his face and moved them to his shirt to unbutton it. When he reached the bottom button, he edged himself up the bed a bit so his head was propped on the pillow. He left his shirt on, though. He proceeded to remove his belt and unzip his trousers. He didn’t bother taking those off. He wanted to get right into it.

He began rubbing himself through his pants. He continued this until he felt himself get harder. He slid the waistband of his pants down, just below his balls. Greg gripped his cock and gave a slow pull up to the tip and back down to the base. As he continued to repeat the motion, he moved his other hand to balls and massaged them. Greg let out a groan.

As Greg’s cock hardened, he started to speed up the hand on his cock. His breathing quickened. Greg moved the hand on his balls under his open shirt and rubbed his nipple, causing a gasp to escape.

Greg needed something to help him out, so he tried to imagine fucking someone from behind. He tried to imagine a person with vague features, but he found his mind drifting to _that_ person: Sherlock. He really tried not to. He felt guilty for thinking about Sherlock in that way, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t know when _this_ , this desire for his colleague and friend, had come about, but it was past the point where it would go away easily. However, in that moment, Greg decided that Sherlock didn’t need to know, and that right now, he just needed to relieve himself of his stress.

Greg began imagining having Sherlock bent over the bed, moaning under him. Greg gripped himself even tighter and sped his hand up. He tried to picture Sherlock asking him to fuck him harder, imagining Sherlock's already deep voice dropping lower. Greg’s breathing started to get shaky. He could feel himself getting close to coming. Greg tried to imagine grabbing Sherlock’s hips and slamming into him from behind, Sherlock whining each time. Greg started bucking his hips up into his fist.

“Oh, oh fuck”, Greg moaned. “Oh shit, Sherlock.” Greg was so close. He moved his hand on his chest back to his balls.

“Ah, Sherlock” he moaned. He was so close to coming when he heard the door open.

“Lestrade, I think I’ve solved the case,” Sherlock exclaimed as he barged into Lestrade’s room. Lestrade shot straight up from the bed. Fuck, this was _not_ happening. “Go to the victim’s mother’s home and check under the bed,” Sherlock continued, undeterred by what Lestrade was obviously doing.

“Sherlock!” Lestrade yelled as he struggled to get himself back into his pants. As much as he was embarrassed, Lestrade was unbelievably furious. Any other person would have the decency to back out of the room, but not Sherlock.

“Lestrade, I need you to hurry up and do what I asked.”

“Fuck, Sherlock, get out! How’d you even get in?!”

“What?” Sherlock asked before figuring out why Lestrade wanted him to leave. “Oh, it’s a part of normal human behavior. I’m not at all surprised you’re partaking in it.”

Lestrade, after finally putting himself away in his trousers, get up, grabbed Sherlock, and shoved him out of the room.  
“But-” was all Sherlock managed to get out before the door was slammed in his face.

Lestrade leaned his back against the door and rubbed his eyes. He hoped Sherlock hadn’t heard his name. Then again, Sherlock hadn’t made any mention of it, so maybe Sherlock hadn’t heard at all. He lowered his hands. Fuck, now not only he was even more tense and stressed out, but he was getting soft because he was too tense and stressed out. God dammit.

He started to walk to his bed, but when a he took a couple of steps away from the door, he heard it open behind him. Greg jumped when he felt hands on his hips.

“Sherlock, what the fuck?! Get out!”

Greg tried to turn around to face Sherlock, but Sherlock gripped his hands tighter and pulled Greg’s hips towards his.

“Sherlock, what’s going on?” Greg inquired.

“You need to relieve stress and tension. You masturbate to do this,” Sherlock explained as he lifted one of his hands from Greg’s hip up Greg’s stomach. “I interrupted that.” He placed his hand on Greg’s chest and pulled Greg so his back was up against Sherlock’s chest.

“Okay, but what do you care?” Greg snapped.

“I need you in good condition or you'll be useless,” Sherlock responded, as he moved his hand still on Greg’s hip to Greg’s fly.

“That’s it? F-for work? Sherlock, you don’t, you don’t have t-to do this,” he stuttered out. Why was Sherlock doing this? Couldn't be just for work. Was he messing with him? Was this for one of his weird social experiments?

"I want to do this," Sherlock said back.

""Sherlock, I... this is really sudden, almost a bit unreal."

“You think I wouldn't want this, but I do. And believe me, I have wanted it for quite some time,” Sherlock revealed. “And _now_ I know you want this, too. Unless you were fantasizing about _yelling_ at me?”

Greg gave a weak laugh, but he still wasn't convinced.

Sherlock continued: "Oh, I see. You think I'm using you for some personal gain, some... 'experiment'?" Sherlock took Greg's silence as confirmation. "I suppose it's going to take some convincing to get you to understand that I have more respect for you than to use you for sex."

"You use me for cases now," came back with.

"I suppose so, but you know that's different. It's a mutual relationship. You help me, I help you."

Sherlock unbuttoned Greg’s trousers with one hand and whispered into Greg’s ear: “Let me do this for you, Greg,” Sherlock insisted. Greg gasped at the breath on his ear. It was hearing his first name that made Greg think that Sherlock did want this, that he wanted more than just a quick shag or to do some weird sexual social experiment. His cock began to twitch when Sherlock grabbed Greg’s cock through his pants. Greg whined.

"O-okay then" Greg squeaked out. Sherlock laughed and kissed Greg’s neck.

“Let’s begin then, shall we?” Sherlock said and slid his hand under the waistband of Greg’s pants.


End file.
